


Glycerine

by BlueSpectre



Category: Saints Row
Genre: Graphic Violence, Grief, M/M, Rage, Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 11:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6801265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueSpectre/pseuds/BlueSpectre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nitroglycerin;<br/>Explosive.<br/>Dangerous when exposed to heat, pressure, or stress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glycerine

    The Boss seemed to be rubbing his eyes every chance he got. Before he left the penthouse, leaning over the railing near the pool, when he got in the car, and at every stoplight. Pierce almost wanted to jokingly ask how hard the Boss partied last night and if there was anything left that he took. But he knew better.

“Tired, Boss?” the Saint asked, turning the volume of the radio down.

The Boss grunted lightly. “Today was exhausting.” His voice sounded quieter than usual and didn't carry the energy that it normally did. Not the mention, the day was only half over and the most physically demanding thing they did today was replace the fridge. Then Boss stayed in his room for a few hours, doing god knows what.

“Could always save this for tomorrow-”

“No,” said the Boss, voice suddenly firm. It actually surprised Pierce. “I need this today. _Especially_ today.”

Pierce frowned and looked out of the window. An hour ago he would have asked why he needed to take out some Morningstar today of all days, but he wasn't ignorant to it anymore.

 _“It's been a month,”_ Pierce remembered what Shaundi told him before he asked the Boss if he wanted to fuck up the Morningstar’s day.

_“He's taking it even harder than I am. Hell, he was the one that suggested we get the tattoos as soon as we had the money.”_

When Pierce asked why the Boss was so affected by Johnny's death, Shaundi only responded with;

 _“They had something even_ _I_ _didn't have with Johnny.”_

It didn't take a genius to figure out what she meant. Pierce wanted to kick himself for not noticing sooner, because now that he thought about it, it was pretty damn obvious. Someone may as well have put a flashing neon sign in front of his face that said _“Your best friends are fucking each other!”_ and he only noticed the pretty colours.

He wondered if he was the last one to figure it out.

When he looked back over to the Boss, he saw him mouthing the words to _Machinehead_ by Bush as it played quietly from the radio’s speakers. As he “sang”, he reached up and pulled down the sun visor to keep the sun that sat at the horizon out of his eyes. Even with his purple tinted sunglasses, it still wouldn't be comfortable to have a bright ball of death right in your face.

He watched the man drum his fingers to the beat of the song against the steering wheel and Pierce sighed. He figured now would he the best time of to ask the question that's been eating away at the back of his mind.

“Boss?”

“What?”

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit,” he responded and Pierce pursed his lips. “Why do you ask?”

    “I just…” He had a hard time trying to figure out how he should say what he wanted to. “Look, I know what’s going on. With you and Shaundi,”

    “The fuck are you talking about?” The venom in Boss’ voice caused Pierce to reel back and wince. Okay, maybe that word choice was very wrong, it sounded like he was implying something other than what he intended. Let’s try that again.

    “I _mean_ with Johnny. And you.”

    Pierce saw the Boss stiffen. “What about him and me?” he said after a pause.

    “Oh come on, man. Don’t play that game with me.”

    “I’m not playing a fucking game-”

    “Shaundi told me, Boss.”

    There was a moment of awkward and tense silence that was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. Pierce’s hand twitched against his lap, itching to turn the radio up. Even if he wasn’t a big fan of Bush, it would sure as hell beat the uncomfortable silence.

    Eventually, the Boss’ body relaxed in the form of a sigh he blew out as a raspberry. He didn’t say anything besides asking where “those assholes” were.

    “Next turn, parking lot of Rusty’s Needle.” said Pierce lowly.

    Before they made it to the tattoo parlor, the Boss switched to his mixtape and skipped to the eleventh track, hitting play and turning the volume all the way up as they pulled into the parking lot. It was the same song, _Machinehead_ , that was just playing on the radio station.

    Pierce held onto the “Oh shit” bar as the Boss roughly slid into the lot sideways, leaving his door open so he could hear the song as he opened fire on the unsuspecting Morningstar.

    A bullet grazed his shoulder but he barely even flinched, to Pierce’s amazement. And slight concern.

His double .45 Shepherds mowed down most of the gang members before they even had a chance to pull their own triggers. One pulled out a phone and speed dialed for reinforcements before taking a bullet to the head. Pierce made sure to shoot the phone when it dropped to the ground.

The Boss grabbed a gang member and held them in front of him to serve as a human shield, forcing their comrades to shoot at both them and the Boss, and the member was soaking up bullets like a sponge. Once they no longer struggled against the Boss’ hold, he dropped them like a bad habit and kicked them out of the way as he reloaded both pistols.

Pierce had barely gotten a few kills in himself as the Boss ripped a pin from a grenade with his mouth and tossed it into the window of the Morningstar that just pulled in. The gang members didn’t even have a chance to get out of the vehicle before it erupted into a harsh explosion.

He looked scarily stoic and expressionless when he and Pierce got into the car - which sported a few new bullet holes, but that wasn’t anything that a visit to Rim Jobs couldn’t fix - and the Saint’s heart was beating out of his chest from the adrenaline. The Boss’ next words coloured Pierce more surprised than it should have.

“Where next?”

* * *

Four hours, six trips to Friendly Fire, and no doubt hundreds of dead Morningstar later, Pierce had trouble keeping his breath steady while the Boss barely looked winded. He just kept going, shooting gang members down like dogs, bludgeoned them to death with a baseball bat, and blowing them up with grenades. It was like a beautiful ballet of death and the Boss was the centre of it all.

Now he stood in the middle of a ring of bodies, shoulders heaving hard from his labored breathing. A blood soaked, broken bat hung loosely from his hand, that was just as drenched as the wood. The red ooze was splattered across several areas of his normally clean and pressed suit, along with rips and tears where bullets made contact. Cuts and bruises covered his angry face and Pierce was legitimately afraid of the man he saw in front of him at this moment.

_“That was for you, Johnny.”_

Either Pierce was going nuts, or he heard the Boss say that as he blew up a Morningstar truck in the climax of the fight.

“Boss?” Pierce said uneasily, resisting the urge to flinch when the other Saint's cold eyes snapped towards him.

“Yeah?” His voice was surprisingly stable and steady for a man that just single-handedly slaughtered an entire group of Morningstar. Pierce would have questioned his sanity, but he knew there was nothing _to_ question. The look the Boss’ eyes held behind his now busted sunglasses said it all.

“The next group is over by Safe Word. Wanna over there or save it for another time?”

“Oh,” the Boss laughed like Pierce told a joke. “We're going over there, alright. I'm not stopping until I make sure I've sent them a fucking message. A _damn_ good message, too.” The crime lord’s voice sliced through the cold air like a knife.

Pierce could only sigh as he followed the Boss to his car, sporting more bullet holes than the gang members scattered along the ground. This car was one of Boss’ “exposables” - as he called them - so it was no love lost if it was damaged beyond all repair. He could just steal another one just like it.

The Boss didn't even bother turning the radio on, his mixtape running out of songs to play over two hours ago. The silence made Pierce uneasy. He watched as the Boss wiped the blood from his face with the sleeve of his suit jacket, wincing when he rubbed against a cut on his cheek.

_“That was for you, Johnny.”_

There was no way he had been hearing things. Pierce definitely heard the Boss say those words, those haunting words said as murder gleamed bright in his eyes.

And knowing that he did, well… It would have broken Pierce's heart if he had one.

“So,” he croaked out, breaking the harsh silence. “Johnny-”

“Don't.” The Boss’ voice was firm and low. A warning. Daring Pierce to continue his words but at his own great peril. “Just fucking don't.”

The Boss had been dodging Pierce’s questions about Johnny all night and he wasn't going to stand for it anymore. He may as well have been staring Death in the face, but he wasn't going to blink. Boss needed to get something off his chest and Pierce was gonna make him spill.

“It's been a month, Boss.”

“ _Pierce_ , shut up.” Boss was becoming vicious with how he spat his words, but the other Saint wasn't going to back down.

“And you only get worse everyday. Me and Shaundi are worried about you, man.”

“Tough shit.”

“C’mon man, talking to me.”

“You're not my fucking therapist, Pierce!”

“No, but you _are_ my friend and the way you're dealing with Johnny's death ain't healthy.” said Pierce, getting ready to dodge a fist that Boss was no doubt about to throw at him. “I know what he meant to you-”

“You don't know _shit_. You don't fucking know how I felt.”

“I know you both just started off as a casual fuck every now and again, but you eventually started feeling things you didn't know you could.”

“Shut your motherfucking _mouth_ , Pierce!” Boss’ voice was dangerous now. He was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were flushing white. His jaw was locked tight too, and he was practically speaking through clenched teeth.

“We all cared about Johnny, Boss. But you? Shit, man. You're taking it to a whole new level.”

“I swear to god, I'm gonna-”

“I just don't understand why you're being so damn difficult about it. Why can't you just admit you're in pain?”

“GODAMMIT!” The Boss howled and launched himself out of the car before it came to a complete stop. A Morningstar gang member found himself becoming the target of the Saint's awakened rage.

Fists flew hard into the member’s face, beating it into a bloody pulp. The others didn't even shoot at the Boss, they were frozen with fear by what they were witnessing before them. Even Pierce found himself unable to move, eyes wide in shock.

The gang member had stopped moving after about the sixth punch but that didn't stop the Boss from pounding into their face over and over and over again, showing no signs of stopping. Blood spat into the air and onto the Boss’ own face, in the front of his suit, all over his hands and arms and all over the ground.

The rest of the Morningstar had gotten into their cars and drove away when their terror prompted the flight response. Their zooming away snapped Pierce back into the horrible reality.

“Boss!” he shouted, running towards his friend. He grabbed the other man’s broad shoulders and pulled back, yelling and almost begging him to stop. But the Boss was like a boulder when he didn't want to move and Pierce was no King Arthur.

“Boss, he's dead! He's fucking dead, man! It's over!”

The man under him growled something incoherent and it sounded as if the devil himself had possessed him. No matter what Pierce did, he couldn't get the Boss to move.

Until;

“ _ETHAN!”_

The Boss suddenly stopped his assault but was no less pissed than when he was beating his victim’s face into the concrete. He pushed himself off the mangled body and shoved Pierce away from him with his bloodied hands, smearing red on the Saint's white jacket.

“You wanna know how I fucking feel, Pierce? I feel like I'm suffocating, like someone's got my heart in a fuckin’ death grip and they squeeze harder every time I hear the name ‘ _Johnny_ ’! I feel like ripping my hair out every time I think about or see the Morningstar or the Syndicate. I also feel like ripping Loren’s throat out with my fucking teeth and making him eat it!”

Pierce stood there helpless as the Boss ranted. He felt an unwelcome tightness in his chest.

“I feel like I betrayed Johnny. I feel like I should have stayed with him or _made_ him come with me and Shaundi. I feel like I could have prevented everything that happened if I had just read up on that piece of fucking shit bank before robbing it. I feel like it’s my goddamn fault that Johnny’s dead and I feel like it should have been me that died instead!” He had nearly screamed the last bit, and he was breathing hard from the lack of breaths he took while speaking.

“So yes, I'm in pain. I'm hurting, I'm not dealing with it in a healthy way, and I fucking need him now but he's not _here_ anymore.” He sounded almost broken now and that tightness in Pierce’s chest only got worse.

“Does that answer your goddamn question, Pierce?”

The other Saint just looked at him for a moment, taking in the result of his rampage. He looked more exhausted now than he did when they first started just five hours ago. The Boss was beat up, bloody, tired, and most of all, broken. It was a horrible sight.

Pierce carefully walked over to his friend and placed a hand on his back. He lead the Boss back to the car and pushed him gently into the passenger seat once he opened the door.

Pierce plopped himself into the driver's seat and sighed as he started the car. _“Glycerine”_ by Bush started playing on the radio that turned on with the car and the Boss leaned his head against the window.

 _“It's not my time to wonder why_  
_Everything's gone white_  
_And everything's grey_  
_Now you're here now you're away_  
_I don't want this_  
_Remember that_  
_I'll never forget where you're at_  
_Don't let the days go by_  
_Glycerine_ _  
Glycerine_ ”

Pierce pretended not to notice the tears that welled up in Boss’ eyes as he silently sang along.


End file.
